Erstkontakt
by Kimberly T
Summary: 22nd in the Life Goes On series. Meanwhile, back in New York... Heinrich the German gargoyle has come to find more of his kind. Instead, he runs into nervous and armed members of the GTF. Oh, dear!
1. No News is not Good News

**LIFE GOES ON**

**MEANWHILE, BACK IN NEW YORK…**

**Part One: Erstkontakt**

By Kimberly T. (email: kimbertow -at- yahoo dot com)

Disclaimers & acknowledgments: I don't own the gargoyles concept; Disney does, as well as a few of the characters mentioned in this story. All the non-Disney-created characters are mine, but I'm not making a dime off this, so please don't sue. And I thank Tribun for helping me with the German bits; any mistakes made are mine, not his.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**1.1: No News Isn't Good News**

Three a.m. of a Wednesday morning in November, the day before Thanksgiving. High in the clocktower over the 23rd Precinct of the NYPD, a German gargoyle stirred and opened his eyes.

Heinrich stretched, groaning and grumbling; he felt a bit better than he had before going to sleep, not quite so exhausted, but now he was feeling stiff and sore! From feeling as limp as a soggy _Abwaschlappen_, to feeling like a _Fußmatte_ that had been repeatedly walked on with studded boots. This sleeping-in-flesh business was strictly for the humans.

Still, now that he was feeling even slightly refreshed after his nap, it was time to go out and see what more he could find out tonight. Now that he knew there were indeed others of his kind alive somewhere in New York, he had to find out where they were staying now. He absolutely refused to consider the possibility that they were all dead now; that picture in the German tabloid had quite clearly shown a flock of winged creatures leaving the ruins of this tower, and the article later mentioned them or more of them escaping from the ruins of a church, somewhere else in this city.

If only his family had found more to go on than that one article in the _Bild-Zeitung_! A tabloid newspaper that was renowned far more for sensational stories than for _true_ stories. Usually, nobody ever believed the stories that were printed in it; people bought it more to sneer and laugh at it than to actually learn anything about news around the world. When she'd brought the article home, Andrea had mentioned that the coworker who had brought the paper into the lunchroom had openly scoffed at the article and photo of 'man-sized flying creatures inhabiting New York', just as he had laughed about the article on the previous page about a giant alien having been sighted on Easter Island.

After bringing that article home, Karl and Andrea had gone out and bought a month's worth of back issues of not only _Bild-Zeitung_ but _der_ _Stern_, _die Welt_, _die Zeit_ and _der_ _Spiegel_, and gone through every edition of those papers for a full month afterwards. But they had found no other articles about gargoyles or gargoyle-like creatures. Evidently their countrymen figured the whole thing to be just another hoax dreamed up by those crazy _Amerikanern_, like the ones about Bigfoot, the Jersey Devil and _Gott_ knew what else.

Well, now that he was here in New York, surely the local newspapers would have something for him. Reading the paper might be a chore—he knew they wouldn't have any Deutsch-language newspapers here; he was never that lucky—but Heinrich had been studying English for nearly two months straight now, and he was sure he could get the gist of nearly any article, with a little help from the dictionary he'd packed. Heinrich went out to the balcony, spread his wings, and leaped out into the night to find a newspaper.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He was huffing and puffing by the time he returned to the clocktower; that _verdammte_ lack of energy was still plaguing him. Barely two kilometers' worth of distance, if even that far, and he felt like he'd flown a circuit all the way around Berlin! But he returned victorious, with five successive editions of the _New York Sun_ clutched in his talons, scavenged from a recycling bin. The latest edition was from three days ago, but they were still better than nothing… he hoped. Surely sometime in the last week, the city's gargoyles had done something worthy of notice by the humans, something that would give him some clue as to where he would look next.

He wolfed down some of the rations he'd brought with him from Germany, musing grimly that soon he'd need to start scavenging for food as well as newspapers; despite the strict rationing he'd set for himself and firmly held to while on the boat, he was down to his last box of crackers and last two _Bratwürste_.

But once his belly was no longer growling, he set the food aside, picked up the oldest newspaper and began reading out on the balcony. The lights of the city were more than adequate for reading a newspaper by, at least for his sensitive eyes. He was pleased to note that he was getting rather proficient in reading English now; he could go for three or even four sentences before reaching for his dictionary, and there were very few words that he just could not decipher at all…

But this word was one of them. What was a 'Quarrymen'? His dictionary didn't list the word at all. He tried to break it down into its component words, found that 'quar' and 'rymen' weren't in the dictionary either, and tried again with 'quarry' and 'men'. 'Men' was easy enough, but 'quarry'… it could mean _die Beute_, or it could mean _die Schottergrube_, or _der_ _Steinbruch_… or it could mean _hauen_. Well, most of the words that it could meant really had nothing to do with a city environment; mines, stone-cutters and digging in general was usually done in the country. But if 'quarry' in this instance meant 'prey', then there was one sort of 'prey' that was found in cities all the time, whether anyone liked it or not…

These 'Quarrymen' must be the local name for _Rattenjäger_, who were paid a pittance to keep the streets and sewers free of rats and other vermin. But from the context of the article, they seemed to be some sort of political organization; they had held a rally in one of the local parks, and were demanding that the local authorities do something to make their streets safer at night; something about special licenses. Did these _Rattenjäger_ really have enough political power to even think of making demands of a city's mayor? And what did they need special licenses for, anyway? Trapping pigeons, too? No, pigeons weren't active at night…

Well, no matter; the article didn't include the word 'gargoyles', so whatever the Quarrymen were, they couldn't help him find what he was looking for. Heinrich turned the page and kept on reading.

Dawn came almost before he realized it, and well before he was finished with reading the newspapers; he had only made it completely through one newspaper and partially through the second when he sensed that dawn was approaching. He marked his place, set the papers aside and turned around to face the city view. Hopefully, a good day's sleep in sunlight would restore his energy, so he could go out and really start searching for his kinsmen. His last thought as he turned to stone was a wistful hope that the gargoyles of this city included a single, comely and at least reasonably amiable female.

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To Be Continued…

**German Translations**:

Abwaschlappen: dishrag

Amerikanern: Americans

beute: loot, prey, prize or quarry

Bild-Zeitung: 'Photo-Newspaper'. A German tabloid newspaper; their equivalent to the U.S.'s National Enquirer.

Das, der, die: 'the' in its various gender-cases (neutral, masculine, and feminine/multiple).

Deutsch: German

Erstkontakt: first meeting

Fußmatte: doormat

Gott: God

Hauen: to hoe out; to use a mattock or other digging tool; to quarry

Rattenjäger: rat-hunters, rat-catchers

Schottergrube: a gravel pit or quarry

Der Spiegel: 'The Mirror.' A German daily paper, issued out of Hamburg.

Der Stern: another German newspaper

Und: and

Verdammte: damn, damned

Die Welt: 'The World.' A daily paper issued out of Berlin, that includes international news

Die Zeit: 'The Time.' Die Zeit is a weekly magazine issued out of Hamburg, in newspaper format.


	2. Enter the GTF

**1.2: Enter the GTF**

The sun moved swiftly across the winter sky, as the citizens of New York went about their business. The day progressed as normally for most of the citizens of New York City… or at least in the fashion that the inhabitants of that city called 'normal.' But as the sun sank low on the western horizon, two police rookies went into the broom closet in the 23rd Precinct, several hours before their shift actually began, and lowered the maintenance ladder that led to the upper floors. One of the pair clutched a large bundle wrapped in brown paper to his chest, while the one lowering the ladder grumbled, "I still say this'll never work."

"Look, 'nothing ventured, nothing gained,' okay?" rookie John Davis said in exasperation to fellow rookie James Carter, another member of the Gargoyles Task Force. "And it's not like we spent _your _money for all these kids' books," as he patted the paper-wrapped bundle.

"Yeah, but we used up _my_ favor with the guys in Electronics to get those micro-radio transmitters put inside the covers," Carter groused, as they went up the ladder. "And five'll get you ten they'll just sit there on the shelves forever, instead of leading us to the gargoyles' lair."

"Don't be so pessimistic. I'm telling you, I distinctly heard that gargoyle ringleader say they'd be back later for more books! ((_back in "The Times They Are a-Changin'… Part 2" – ye author_)) And when they do, they'll find these mixed in with the books left on the shelves. At least one of 'em is bound to be picked up, and then we just follow the signal wherever it leads. If those transmitters give as strong a signal as your buddy says they do, we should be able to track 'em down just about anywhere in Manhattan, and over at least half of Brooklyn too."

"And I still say we should just try again to get a warrant for searching that castle on top of the Aerie Building. Just because Bluestone and Maza weren't able to get a warrant from the judges that one time doesn't mean we'll never be able to get one. And we _know_ David Xanatos is involved with the gargoyles; he's the one that pulled them out of that ruined cathedral! And let's not forget those reports of the Quarrymen's helicopter circling that building all Sunday night, and for a couple hours Monday before it flew off to get involved in the incident at the docks. They weren't circling up there just to play ring-around-the-rosy…"

"Right, but we also know that Xanatos actually lives in that castle, with his wife and, I might add, a newborn son. And even if the ones I talked to last week seemed almost friendly, no way you'll ever convince me that a couple with a newborn baby are going to have gargoyles as houseguests."

While they were arguing with each other, Davis opened the trapdoor to the next level up, the abandoned library. He climbed up first, followed by Carter, and they looked around in the dim light from the afternoon sun that filtered through from the hole in the ceiling. Carter was the first to say aloud, "Looks like they came back already, sometime during the week. I'm positive those shelves have fewer books now, than they did the last time we were up here."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Davis sighed, but he set the children's books on the shelves anyway, setting a few on each shelf and trying to blow dust _onto_ them, to make it look like they'd been there a while.

While Davis was shelving the books, Carter wandered around and up to the next level, looking for more evidence that the gargoyles had been back; probably hoping for a nice clear track that they could take pictures of. Davis had just put the last book he'd bought, Liepzig's classic _A Fly Went By_, onto a shelf when he heard, faintly through that hole in the ceiling, Carter's voice filled with excitement: "Get up here fast! You aren't going to believe this!"

"What did you find?" Davis called out as he hurried up the ladder to the old housing for the tower's giant clock. He saw Carter up at the top of the staircase that led to the clock face, waving to him excitedly. He ran up the stairs, and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him on the balcony:

A stone gargoyle. And this was no statue that had been put there by the architects years ago, because Davis and Carter had been up there last week, and hadn't seen it. This had to be a real gargoyle, sleeping in stone, just like the Quarrymen said they did!

"**_We got one_**_! We got a gargoyle_! A real live gargoyle, and WE found it!" Davis and Carter gave each other high-fives. "Wait 'till we get the others up here! Let's get Bluestone up here first… no, Captain Chavez first! We'll get some sort of commendation for sure, maybe even early promotion!" Both men were nearly dancing with glee.

After their initial euphoria wore off, Davis studied the stone form, walking around to view it from all sides, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Take a look at this; this guy's been in a few scraps. Either that or somebody's been up here chipping at him while he's asleep. Look at how there's a piece missing off of this horn… and the tail, here… and he's even missing a toe, or claw or whatever," as he crouched down to inspect the feet.

"Caused by the Quarrymen in that fight two nights ago? Or by other gargoyles?" Carter wondered aloud. "My old cat lost half an ear and part of his tail from fighting other toms out on the back fence…"

As Davis walked around the statue again for a thorough inspection, his foot brushed against one of the two dark canvas satchels shoved up against a wall. Satchels that were largely dust-free, unlike everything else in the ruins, and were likely as recent arrivals as the gargoyle. He stared at them as realization stuck him, and said aloud in a wondering tone, "…This critter's got _luggage_?"

Carter stared at the bags as well, then exchanged a glance with his buddy. "Am I the only one here having trouble processing this? I mean, this makes them seem… almost human…"

"Yeah." Davis stared at the bags for a moment longer, then took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and began going through the satchels.

Carter gave a lopsided smile as Davis opened up the first satchel. "You realize we don't have a warrant for that…"

"Oh, shut up." Davis discovered that the first satchel held another satchel inside, empty and rolled up, and a few items of food. He held up and sniffed a half-sausage that had been wrapped in wax paper and said, "Smells like Bratwurst, I think. And this box here… still has a few crackers left in it. But check out the writing on the side of the box…"

Carter peered at the box's label and decided, "German. Or maybe Dutch, or Polish…"

"Which means that our boy either favors the German and Polish delis down in SoHo, or he's from… out of town." Davis exchanged another glance with Carter. "This just keeps getting weirder…"

While Davis put the food and empty case back in the first satchel, Carter opened the other, smaller one. The first item he pulled out was a pair of paperback books bound together with a large rubber band; one was titled "The Alchemist" by some guy named Paulo Coelho, and the other was titled "Der Alchemist." Then he pulled out another pair, one titled "Crazy in Alabama" and the other titled "Verrückt in Alabama." The next item to emerge was a large dictionary, with the words "Deutsch-Englisch, Englisch-Deutsch" emblazoned on the cover.

"Definitely from out of town," Davis said slowly, his eyes wide. "And he's trying to teach himself English…"

"I wonder how fluent he is now?" Carter mused as he pulled out a zippered bag that proved to contain a small portable tape player with headphones and a handful of audiotapes. He studied the German labels on the tape cases and concluded, "Language tapes, like my sister used to learn Spanish." He reached in again and pulled out with a shake of his head, "And a German tourist's guide to New York..."

"You know what this means, don't you?" Davis said softly, his eyes troubled. "For him to be here, in this clocktower, the first place the gargoyles were caught on video… This gargoyle's come to America to look for more of his kind."

"Yeah," Carter said, his own eyes troubled. "Coming all the way over here and teaching himself the language, just to find more gargoyles like him… Which means he must be almost desperate to find more creatures like himself. When I was in junior high school, I read 'The Last Unicorn' for an extra-credit assignment… I wonder if this guy thought he was 'the last gargoyle'?"

The last two items to be pulled out of the satchel were a loose-leaf binder full of paper, and a packet wrapped carefully in a woolen scarf. The pages in the binder were covered in German writing; Carter glanced at them and shook his head. "Now I wish I'd taken that foreign language option in high school after all. Don't suppose you can make heads or tails out of this?"

But instead of answering, Davis was unwrapping the scarf from around the packet that Carter had handed him, and when he had it unwrapped, he whispered in awed tones, "Sonuvabitch. Family photos…"

"What! Lemme see…" Carter crowded in to look over his shoulder, as Davis went through a small photo album containing a series of Polaroid photographs, some of them obviously old but lovingly preserved. The first one was of a green gargoyle, clearly female, with long blonde hair kept in a braid that went down her back between her wings. She was turned halfway towards the camera and looking somewhat startled, as if the picture-taker had caught her by surprise.

The second photograph was of two male gargoyles, one with royal blue skin and brown hair, and a taller one with charcoal-gray skin, blood-red hair and horns. The two of them were obviously clowning for the camera, just as most human teenagers would. Carter leaned in and tapped the side of the photo with the tall gray gargoyle as he said with assurance, "That's him, that's our boy. Years younger, and before he got his horn chipped."

"Well, now we know he's not 'the last gargoyle'; there are more like him back in Germany. …Or there were…"

The next page was blank, except for the faint outline that indicated a photo had recently been removed. The page after that held a photo of two humans, a man and a woman. The woman was hugely pregnant and sporting a somewhat sour smile, and the man was grinning from ear to ear as he held up a tape measure with the number '167' clearly marked between his fingers. Davis shook his head with a smile as he said, "Betcha ten bucks he just measured her waist, probably in centimeters. I tried to measure my sister-in-law once when she was expecting, but she nearly decked me."

The page after that held a regular photograph instead of a Polaroid, of those same two people smiling at the newborn baby in the woman's arms. The next photo, another Polaroid, had both police officers drawing in hissing breaths of surprise. Then Davis asked Carter wryly, "What was that you were saying about babies and gargoyle houseguests?" The photo clearly showed the green female gargoyle changing the diaper on that human baby, and wrinkling her nose as she worked. Looking at it, they could almost _hear_ her complaining about the stink.

The next page was blank; evidently, another photo had recently been removed. The page after that had a photo of the green female gargoyle again, but now she was hugely pregnant, and the blue male gargoyle was jokingly measuring her girth. The next photo showed all three gargoyles gathered around a table and staring down at a large object, ovoid in shape and covered with purplish splotches, and nestled in blankets. Davis said hesitantly, "Is that… an _egg_?"

"I think so," Carter said, his voice hushed with awe. "They must be an egg-laying species. My God, what we're learning from these photos…"

Two more photos of the baby progressing through his childhood, with the gargoyles as his nannies and willing playmates. Then they came across a photo of a party; humans and gargoyles gathered together in what was evidently a living room, toasting each other with glasses of champagne and mugs of beer, and wide smiles all around. The banner stretched over their heads had the phrase "200 BERGUNGEN!" over a black, red and gold striped background that resembled the German flag.

Without being asked, Carter grabbed for the dictionary and began flipping through it, looking up the word. After a minute or so he said, "It says here 'Bergung' means either 'rescue,' 'recovery' or 'salvage'. …Two hundred rescues? Rescuing people, or gargoyles?"

Davis opened his mouth to give an opinion, but was interrupted by a strange sound coming from nearby; a sort of crackling and crumbling sound, that reminded them of an object rolling across gravel. They turned to look for the source, and focused on the statue of the gargoyle. Which was _cracking_ right in front of their eyes, with a faint white light showing through the cracks running all across the surface… They'd been studying their finds so intently that they'd lost track of time, and the course of the sun across the sky. Realization struck them both at the same moment, and Davis breathed, "Oh, **_sh_**--"

**KRACKOOOOM! **The statue seemed to _explode_ right in front of their eyes, with stone shards and gravel flying everywhere and pelting them in a painful shower. And where the statue had been was now a living, breathing gargoyle, standing tall and unfurling his wings.

The gargoyle had his back to them, and so didn't see them as he stretched his wings out and lifted his arms over his head, as his tail twitched and uncoiled like a gray python stirring. It was an enthralling sight, but Davis was suddenly and eerily reminded of… an ordinary Joe enjoying a good stretch after a good night's sleep. And he found himself hoping absurdly that the gargoyle really had slept well, because he was about to get a rude awakening…

To Be Continued…


	3. A Rude Awakening

**1.3: A Rude Awakening**

Ahhhhhh…. He was his old self again, with energy to spare! Heinrich grinned as he stretched after waking up, feeling better now than he'd felt in weeks. Yes, a good day's sleep in sunlight had been just the thing! Maybe he would recommend it to Karl and Andrea next time one of them caught a cold. In the meantime, he would—

"**POLICEFREEZE**!"

He would find himself wings-deep in trouble again. Heinrich didn't understand the word that had been shouted behind him, but he just _knew_ that whoever had spoken was armed and dangerous, and sudden moves now would **not** be good for his restored health.

He froze in place, reflecting bitterly that this was why, even if his country knew about gargoyles and offered them the same sort of _Lebensversicherung_ that they offered humans, no insurance company in its right mind would ever touch him. The infamous Heinrich's Luck had struck again… Why hadn't he suggested that Helmut go exploring instead? This sort of _Scheiße _never happened to Helmut…

* * *

Carter had dropped the dictionary and drawn his gun as the gargoyle statue had explosively turned into the flesh-and-blood version, and Davis didn't blame him a bit; that had been totally unnerving. But now, a few seconds after Carter had shouted and the gargoyle had frozen in mid-stretch, Davis said carefully, "Carter… put it away. Or at least lower it. There's no need to threaten him."

"What are you, nuts!" Carter hissed at him, his eyes never leaving that gray winged back. "This is a _gargoyle_!"

"Yes, it is. A gargoyle with a family; we just saw that. A family with humans in it, too. I can't vouch for the others in this city, but this one _isn't_ the sort of monster that Quarrymen have been talking about. So lower the gun…"

While Davis had been talking, the gargoyle had very slowly and cautiously turned his head, just enough to look at them out of the corner of one eye. Now, as Carter reluctantly lowered his gun, the creatures said softly, "I wish no trouble. No hurt… anyone."

"Glad to hear it," Carter said tersely. He didn't holster the gun, but he did completely lower it and take his finger off the trigger.

Still moving slowly, the gargoyle lowered his arms and pulled in his wings. Then he asked, "I turn…?"

"Yes, you can turn around," Davis assured him.

The gargoyle slowly turned to face them, eyed their uniforms, then asked, "_Die Polizei_? …Police?"

"Yes, we're police officers," Davis answered. "Where are you from? Germany?"

"Yes. I come America… find more… gargoyles. Like me." Then he noticed the dropped dictionary, photo album and binder, and he scowled; a scowl that showed fangs, and made Carter's gun twitch upwards a few inches. Obviously noticing the gun movement, the gargoyle lost the scowl in a hurry, but Davis could still sense the disapproval nearly radiating from him.

"Yes, we looked through your personal belongings… but we needed to do so, to determine whether or not you were really a monster," Davis said, half-apologizing and half-defending their actions. "Some people have been killed by gargoyles recently, and we needed to discover your intentions, whether--"

But the gargoyle interrupted him with a surprised exclamation in German, followed by "What you say! Gargoyles und kill! Say again, please…"

To Be Continued…

**German Translations:**

Lebensversicherung: life insurance policy

Scheiße: shit, crap

Und: and


	4. Learning More

**1.4: Learning More**

It took a while to explain everything to the gargoyle, and vice versa. They'd had to consult the dictionary more than once, on both sides of the conversation. But by the time they were done, the rookies knew that the gargoyle, Heinrich, had arrived on a boat straight from Germany only last night, and therefore had nothing to do with that battle with the Quarrymen.

The officers also had their earlier guess confirmed; Heinrich had come here solely to find more of his kind. He told them that until his family had seen an article in some German newspaper, they'd had no idea that others of his kind still existed; for all they'd known, not only their parents but all other living gargoyles had been killed back in World War II. And it turned out that the 'Bergungen' that the gargoyles had been engaged in, had been helping people escape from East Germany before the Iron Curtain had come down.

Carter had finally put his gun away sometime during the conversation, and now, at the revelation that the gargoyles had helped people escape from a Communist regime, he chipped in, "My next-door-neighbor escaped from Hungary back in 1974. He told me he had to have help to sneak across the border, too, and even then he almost didn't make it."

"Yes, very dangerous," Heinrich agreed. He spread one of his wings a bit, glancing down at the many scars they could see in it, then reached up to absently finger his chipped horn as he added wryly, "Some soldiers very good shots."

"You were shot at? And hit? …More than once!"

Heinrich snorted. "Many times. My brother, Helmut, he lucky devil; never hit, ever. Instead, I get all his bullets; Heinrich _der __Schweizer Käse_." Davis was holding the dictionary at the moment, so he flipped through it and translated for Carter; _Heinrich the Swiss Cheese_.

After that, Carter became almost visibly friendlier, and Davis had to admit he was impressed too. To get shot at multiple times, and still come back for more, to save people you didn't even know… this gargoyle would've made one helluva cop.

* * *

Eventually, Heinrich took them through the rest of his photo album, giving names to each of the people pictured therein, and telling them that the missing photos were of Heinrich himself; his family had removed them so, if the worst happened and he didn't return from America, they would have something to remember him by. (Carter had looked down for a second when he'd heard that, and Davis knew what he'd been thinking; if Heinrich hadn't frozen in place at the sound of his shout upon awakening, or if Davis hadn't talked him into lowering his weapon, the worst might have happened that very night.) The officers saw many more examples of humans and gargoyles peacefully coexisting, even the baby gargoyle Gregor and the human toddler Dieter sharing a playpen together.

Just before they got to the last page of the album, Davis's wristwatch started beeping. He looked down at it and cursed under his breath. That was his 'You've got 10 minutes to get to work; why aren't you there already?' alarm! He told Carter, "We need to get downstairs and muster before anyone starts asking about us, or poking around the broom closet."

"You come back later?" Heinrich asked anxiously.

"Sure, we'll be back later; I can come up here on my dinner break," Davis offered. "And don't worry; we won't tell anyone else you're up here. _Right_, Carter?" as he looked his buddy dead in the eye.

Carter looked startled for a moment, then said, "Right, not a word! Far as anyone else downstairs is concerned, this place is still abandoned. We'll be back later…"

* * *

"So why exactly are we not telling anyone about him?" Carter hissed once they'd closed the trapdoor that led down to the broom closet. "Even if he's friendly instead of hostile, this is major news; a major break for us!"

"One, this guy doesn't deserve the kind of harassment he'll get if any of the higher-ups get hold of him. For all we know, he could end up on a slab in a lab somewhere, being dissected… and I'm not about to let that happen to him. Two, once we get this guy completely up to speed on English, he can be our ace-in-the-hole when dealing with the gargoyles we already have."

"Ace in the hole? How, exactly?"

"Once we locate the others, we just get Heinrich to talk to them and tell them how wonderful life is in Berlin these days. Then we find a freighter they can stow away on, and they're off to Germany! Heinrich's family gets more of their own kind to talk to, and we defuse the whole gargoyles-versus-Quarrymen situation the easiest way possible. That's a win-win situation if I ever heard one! But first, we have to find the native gargoyles, and we need to keep Heinrich safe and away from the Quarrymen until we can. That means keeping our mouths totally shut about him. I know for a fact that we've got at least one Quarryman sympathizer right here in our own precinct, and the last thing we need is for Hayden or somebody else to let slip to Castaway that we've got a live one."

Carter winced. "Good point. Okay, not a word to anyone, even Bluestone."

"Especially not him," Davis agreed. "He's in too tight with the higher-ups; he'd probably feel obligated to let them know everything. And even if he wasn't, he's such a straight-arrow, I'm not sure he's any good at keeping a secret."

* * *

After the police officers had left, Heinrich pulled out his pen and paper and began writing again. When the young men returned, he would ask them to mail a packet for him; one full of all the letters he had written up till now, to be sent home to Berlin. Heinrich could even pay for the postage; Karl had converted some Deutsche Mark to U.S. dollars and stuffed them into Heinrich's bags the night that he'd left. In the meantime, he wanted to write down all the details of this night's meeting, this _Erstkontakt_, while it was still fresh in his mind.

_Dear Helmut and Helga,_

_I met my first American humans tonight. They are two young police officers named John Davis and James Carter, who work in the station below where the gargoyles were sighted; they found me here just before I woke up this evening. (Yes, I know it was careless of me to assume that just because no one had been up here in more than a week, no one would come at all.) Luckily, they did not shoot me on sight. Instead, they have told me a great deal about the gargoyles native to this land. Not all of it is good news…_

END

**Translating from the German**:

Deutsche Mark: German currency

Erstkontakt: first meeting


End file.
